


A Chord In His Heart

by triforcelegends8



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:59:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1552943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforcelegends8/pseuds/triforcelegends8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time with Sherlock Holmes is absolutely perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chord In His Heart

He awoke slowly, lifted from his slumber by the rays of light that filtered through the window in his room. He could feel the light’s warmth on his face as his dull blue eyes slowly fluttered open. He could feel the familiar weight of the man’s arm draped across his chest as his mind drifted back into the waking world. He turned his head to the side where the man lay, still grasped in the clutches of slumber. He smiled.

Times like this were rare. Quiet, tender, vulnerable. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. The world around him could be ending, crashing down like a tidal wave on a boat, and everything would still be absolutely perfect. Nothing could change them like this, tangled in each other’s arms, under plush sheets, and laying still in the soft bed, all quiet. No one to disturb them, no one to bring them back to reality, no one to change what they had.

He lifted his arm and brought it to the man’s head. He caressed his silken, dark curls, tangled by the bed and involuntary movements in the night. His calloused hand moved back and forth on the side of the man’s head, flattening the curls and stroking his head, careful not to wake him. He rarely got to see him so quiet and still. It was times like these that struck a chord in his heart. Made it sing with the high notes of happiness. He could have never achieved the same level of contentment with anyone else, this he knew for a fact. It was always him, only him.

The man with the curls stirred making the other’s hand still, afraid he had woken him and ruined this perfect serenity. The man lifted his head and looked the other with bleary, sleep-ridden eyes. He smiled, soft and chaste, and laid his head down in the crook of the other man’s neck. The other man sighed, glad that he could share this peace with his love. With Sherlock Holmes.

Years ago, he never would have believed any of this was possible. Yet, here he was, body closely knit with his, hands tangling into each other’s arms, and hair brushing the soft skin of his neck. He felt this would never end. This perfect moment was theirs and theirs alone. It couldn’t be better than this.


End file.
